


The Spiral

by Heavydirtys0ul



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavydirtys0ul/pseuds/Heavydirtys0ul
Summary: The Distortion considers the end of the world, and finds it is hollow, and nothing more.
Kudos: 12





	The Spiral

The sky blinks its many eyes amongst cold and rain and lightning, and dark grey, swirling clouds. The world is frozen under the gaze of all seeing eyes, that no walls or roofs can hide from, what is left to hide from it in the first place that is. At the top of Big Ben, inside the clock face, a door opens and a figure sits at the edge, feet dangling hundreds of miles above the ground without an inch of fear. The Distortion stares, their steely gaze taking in the devastation underneath them with a hollow sensation. "Hm," They utter, words lost in the crackling lightning "Chaos, I should be happy, shouldn't I?" Yet they're not, they just sit there and feel that same hollow aching sensation. "Happy is just a feeling, we're more than that, yes, but...surely this should fill me with some sense of... _yes?"_ They are of course, speaking to nothing and no-one, the Archives are effectively closed, and not even a being made of madness wants to make good company with Jonah Magnus. Some things are far too much even for them, especially when insanity dresses itself up in a nice suit and wolfish smile.

They look up and notice some eyes stare back from their position in the clouds, attached to nothing but something as they stare curiously at the doors "You can mind your business, this is your fault," They could've sworn the Watcher returned a slight smirk although it had no mouth "This chaos is not fun, it isn't...sporadic, it's too organised," They announce their discomfort finally "This is not chaos, it is a plan though," their grin is far too wide for a face that should not look like that "A plan! And plans can be...diverted," A slow hum escapes their throat, their hands pressing to either side of the door frame "I cannot interfere, no, that's not my job at all, but I can witness..." They look from the devastated scene of London, up to the Watcher. "I can watch," It's almost a goad, the way they smile and giggle, the sky crackles and lights up the eyes in their millions. The Distortion is not disconcerted by the scene at all. 

They look past the eyes a little, to the hypnotising swirls of clouds, almost like a cheap parlour trick as they decorate the sky, flashing colours in the Vast's lightning. "I should be happy you're here, but I suppose you didn't make me to be happy or sad," They can feel the Spiral more than hear or taste them, it isn't the smell of petrichor and burnt wood the way the Vast might, nor does it fill anyone with a distinct feeling. No, the Spiral is something that simply...be's. "Those are very human things to think and feel, and I wear their skin like an ill-fitting suit but I am not...am I? I am not like them," their hand gestures out towards the remnants of The Magnus Institute. The fingers oddly shaped, nails curling. The Spiral doesn't pick, it creates. 

Like a mad scientist, silent and observant, knowing what the human mind hates, learning over centuries to bring into creation the doors, the Distortion. It is a strange existence to know you are everything and nothing at all; a series of inanimate objects that suddenly become sentient and conscious, wondering why they are somewhere and nowhere all at once. "Whatever it is he has planned, I think it will be the most exciting thing to happen since this, I wonder...will humanity forget the end of the world? Like it was just last week's football scores? Will they remember murdering each other in the streets, the bodies of human's with the faces of animals? Will they remember the bloodlust, the eyes watching them? Will they remember insanity, I wonder, what it feels like to truly loose your mind, when everything is something else and all that should not happen, does?" A sigh, cold and heavy, pushes past their lips and they shake their head without direction. "Years of studying humans, skin after skin, no, I don't think they'll remember at all," A deep inhale "I think we'll be here again one time, I think their mistakes are always destined to be repeated," 

Without warning, they stand and disappear into the hallway, door shutting behind them with a hollow thud. The clock face to Big Ben looks unchanged, no door staring out over the city, and the eyes that had been paying attention, turn away.


End file.
